


Icarus and the Sun

by dreamingKatfish



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Okay Dad Philza, Whump, Wilbur Soot Whump, hes not great but not bad either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingKatfish/pseuds/dreamingKatfish
Summary: What if Wilbur falls before he can tell Phil to kill him? What if someone finds him before he bleeds out instead?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot - implied, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	Icarus and the Sun

He stands tall and proud even if he doesn't feel like he is. His symphony up in flames and ruin. He turns on his heel to face Philza, a manic smile on his face. Because this is it. This is his end. A public execution hosted by himself for himself and his beloved executioner Philza, his father. Except he stepped too far back on unstable and crumbling ground. And Icarus  _ falls _ . 

He doesn't get to see the cold, harsh stone coming to greet him, just the sky and he realizes it's a beautiful day. And then it goes out in a matter of seconds as he hits the stone. 

* * *

Philza reaches out to catch him but misses and though he wishes to jump down and do anything to protect his son from the fate he's chosen, he can't. Two Withers loom overhead and it's time to fight. So he rushes up and fights through it all, putting all his pain and anger at the world into it.

Thankfully for him, the Sun isn't planning on letting Icarus go just yet. And as the Sun and the Moon go to destroy the remaining ruins, the Sun finds Icarus. Body broken and bleeding, blood painting his wings onto the stone below. The Sun slides down the cracked stone to him, but though wings broken he breaths still. And he has a choice here, to walk away or for once in his life admit he cares about someone. Though he wants to fight it, he knows he made his decision the second he saw Wilbur laying there in a pool of his own blood. 

Dream rummages through his pack for his potions of healing and regeneration. He originally packed them solely for himself, but he won’t leave his partner in crime to bleed out. Despite popular belief, they can’t fix everything, but they will stop someone from dying and that’s all he needs right now. He just needs Wilbur to live. He can take care of the rest, he’s patched himself and the rest of the Dream Team up far too many times to count after all. 

Breathing steadied by potions Dream carefully lifts Wilbur from the stone and runs. He can’t do anything here and while he may admit to himself he cares, that doesn’t mean he has to admit it to anyone else. There’s only one place to go, home. A hidden base far away from the chaos and drama of nations past and present. He let everyone think it doesn’t exist, they don’t need to see his heart. 

Small and quaint, hardly fitting the image he’s projected. He brings Wilbur to the bathroom and silently cleans and patches his wounds. He rummages in his closet for the largest pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he can find. Though the shirt fits, the pants don’t. Dream shrugs it off, he isn’t leaving Wilbur in bloodied clothes or just underwear so the other will have to deal with ill-fitting clothes. Once done he lifts Wilbur and places him down in bed, Dream doubts he’ll get much sleep anyway. He checks over Wilbur once more before leaving to clean his clothes and the bathroom. He’s fairly certain Wilbur is going to hate him for this, they’ve been enemies for so long, but he doesn’t care. As long as Wilbur is alive to hate him then that’s all that matters.

* * *

The Moon vanishes after his declaration against the others and their attempts at starting a new government. And Philza rushes back to the crater he left Icarus in, but he’s too late. All that’s left is bloody painting and he can admit to himself that he’s scared. He’s the Angel of Death, but he’s still terrified. Because for all he knows he hasn't always been the best father in the world he still cares about his son for fuck’s sake. The only consolation to him there are no items left behind indicating death. But he doesn’t know where his son is or if he’s okay and that scares him more than anything else. And he prays to gods he doesn’t believe in that it will work out okay. 

* * *

Dream doesn’t eat or sleep, busy watching over Wilbur, double, triple-checking to make sure he’s healing okay. And he thinks he might have to admit that he cares about Wilbur a lot more than he thought. He supposes that’s just the thing about relationships, they’re built on time, and him and Wilbur? They’ve had nothing but time together even if a lot of it wasn’t the best. They know each other for better and worse. So he changes Wilbur’s bandages as needed and keeps an eye on him. He’s not sure if he could forgive himself otherwise. 

But he’s only human and has to step out sometimes. During one of these times, Wilbur wakes up. He groans as his eyes flicker open, greeted by a ceiling he doesn’t recognize. He's never been here before. Look he may have potentially lost his mind, but he still knows where he has and hasn't been. And he has not been here. Though he will confess the bed he's been placed on is soft and while strange and partly upsetting, whoever did the wrapping on him certainly knew what they were doing.

He feels conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to die, there’s no reason for him to keep going. On the other hand, he wanted his death to be deliberate, intentional. Not unremarkable, not clumsy, not… not an accident. It's a bit late now though, the moment has passed. And he’s now wherever the hell he is, actually he should try to figure that out. 

He pulls himself up and heaves himself out of the bed, aches spreading throughout his body, but he doesn’t let it stop him. He leans against the wall and furniture as he shuffles throughout the room, examining it with critical eyes. There’s no real identifying information, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He can still narrow down the suspects with the amount of green in the room. He realizes though if he wants to learn more he’s going to have to leave the room, so he slowly makes his way to the door. Except when he opens it the last person he suspected on his list is on the other side still reaching towards the door handle. 

They stand still, staring wide-eyed at each other. Dream gets over his shock first and ushers Wilbur back into the bed, “You’re hurt, you shouldn’t be wandering around.”

Though Wilbur goes along at first, he immediately sits back up and questions, “Wait, what the fuck?” He feels like he pulled something doing that, but he refuses to flinch.

Instead, Dream is the one flinching back as if in pain, he panics and answers, “It wasn’t your time to die, at least not like that.” 

Wilbur nods and this time lays back down when Dream urges. He stares at the ceiling, “I suppose I’ll have to add the force of gravity to my list of enemies.” It breaks the tension that Dream hadn’t even noticed lingering in the air. He huffs out a laugh and Dream checks over Wilbur once more, firmly ignoring how he can feel Wilbur watching him as he does so. 

As much as he'd like Wilbur to stay in bed longer, one, Wilbur would never willingly sit still that long and two, he has to admit Wilbur is fine for short periods of walking around. So when Wilbur’s stomach growls Dream offers an arm, “Here,” and helps lift Wilbur up and out of the bed. The two of them shuffle to the kitchen, Dream careful to make sure that he holds most of Wilbur’s weight without making the other man feel like he’s being babied. “Here,” Wilbur lowers himself into one of the chairs at the small kitchen island while Dream moves further into the kitchen. “Any preference?” He asks while rummaging through the cabinets.

“No,” Wilbur’s voice gruff, but not unkind. It catches Dream off-guard but he moves on quickly to work on a brunch for the two of them. In his defense, he is rather hungry as well. 

Neither one says anything as he cooks while Wilbur watches. They don’t say anything after Dream serves up the food. They don’t speak while they eat. But it’s not uncompanionable. Actually, it’s weirdly domestic considering everything. This may be the first time they've hung out for reasons other than fighting each other or planning to fight someone else. It’s weird but in a nice sort of way? They’ve spent so much time high-strung and at war that they never really got to sit down and exist in a long time. So just sitting there quietly munching on some food feels nice in a weird, unfamiliar way. Dream thought that they would have forgotten how to do this, just exist. But when he meets Wilbur’s eye across the island, it’s okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dunno if I'd ever continue this, but eh have something niceish after what canon has been recently


End file.
